


Transcending Lifetimes

by SandstoneSunspear



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:48:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15566124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandstoneSunspear/pseuds/SandstoneSunspear
Summary: The universe said that Marie's death was a constant event. In each life she lived, Lucy told the universe to go fuck itself and give her back the woman she loved. This time, the universe listened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the Last Goodbye!verse from my Supergirl Pride Month Prompt Fills. The idea for this was sparked by nerdsbianhokie and fleshed out through conversations with syllabicacronyms and gwatson2304.

The world slowly came into focus for Marie. Her head felt foggy as she slowly took her surroundings in. She took a step back when the New York City noise registered with her ears.

_ What the hell? _

Marie felt a tug on her trousers. She glanced down to see a young girl no older than four at her side, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

“Think ‘m lost,” she mumbled. “Can you help me find my momma, Ms. Firefighter?”

_ Firefighter? _

Marie examined her own clothing more closely. She was in her dress blues. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Marie soothed. On instinct, she reached down to pick the girl up and was surprised by how easy it was. “We’ll find her.” She scanned their surroundings. Everything looked different. “We’ll find her.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Marie saw a police officer approaching. Her grip tightened around the child. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the officer said as soon as he close. “Are you alright?”

Marie lifted a hand to rub her forehead, only to frown when she bumped into her cover. She adjusted it and ran the back of her finger against her smooth scalp.

“I don’t think so,” she admitted. With her free hand, she jabbed a thumb in the direction Freedom Tower. “You know when the hell that got finished?”

He frowned. “It’s been finished for a while,” he said.

Marie’s frown deepened. “Define a while.”

“Four years, give or take a few months.”

Marie felt her stomach drop. “Excuse me?” she demanded. “Did you say four years?”

His frown deepened to match hers before morphing into a curious look. “Ma’am, what year do you think it is?” he asked cautiously.

“2012,” Marie said immediately. “I...I made it to June. To my anniversary with my wife.” Like she had promised that she would.

“ _ 2012?! _ ” A voice shouted out.

Marie turned in the direction of the noise. She noticed that a crowd of similarly daze people had started to gather close by. At the forefront was a rather harried looking man.

Marie shifted the child in her arms. “What year do you think it is?” she asked him. 

“2001,” he said. He glanced up at Freedom Tower. “I was working at the World Trade Center. Which doesn’t look like it’s here anymore. What is that?”

“Freedom Tower,” the officer spoke up.

“The what?”

“Freedom Tower?” Marie said. “It’s what they built to replace the World Trade Centers after they came down.”

“What?!” He took a step back. The crowd also shifted nervously at the declaration.

A slightly hysterical laugh left the businessman’s throat. “This is just a bad joke,” Marie heard him mutter. There were some murmurs of agreement from the crowd. “This can’t be real.” He rubbed the sides of his temples. “Dust, rock, heat, screaming. It’s not real, it can’t be real, it can’t be. 15 years, it can’t be.”

_ Oh, shit. _

Marie recognised the signs on a full-on panic attack. She was by his side in an instant, child still in her arms. She ignored the twinge in her chest that rose as a result of the speed of her actions and focused on working him down.

“C’mon, let’s go sit down, alright?” She freed a hand so that she could tug him towards a bench. Once situation, she pushed down on his back. “Head between your legs and breathe.”

He took a shuddering breath.

“There we go.” She rubbed his back. “Just following my breathing, alright?”

It took a few moments, but eventually his breathing evened out. Marie looked up to see the officer walking over. 

“You should probably call paramedics,” Marie told him. She glanced around to see a sea of uncertain faces. She motioned for all of them to come over. “Maybe grab some food. There’s a bodega right down the block, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s still there,” the officer said with a nod. 

Marie returned the nod curtly. “Something light,” she said. “Doubt these people can stomach much.”

_ Doubt I can either.  _

Marie settled back against the bench, mindful of the child still tucked in her arms. 

“Excuse me, ma’am?” one of the group spoke up. Marie eyed her. She was dressed in a crip pantsuit that was fashionable a decade in a half prior. If Marie had to guess, she would say that the woman had been one of the many to perish when the Towers came down. “Do you know what exactly happened? Or even just what’s going to happen?”

Marie’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to figure out what to say. On the one hand, these people deserved the truth. On the other, the last thing anyone needed right now was cause to panic. Being told that you had died a horrific death years prior, only to come back to life? That would do it. The man still taking deep breaths next to her was proof enough of that.

Marie gave her an easy smile. “I’m, uh, kinda lost like the rest of you,” she said. It wasn’t a complete lie, her mind  _ was _ awhirl with thoughts as she tried to figure out just  _ how  _ she had come back. “But everything should be okay. We’re all here, alive, breathing. So, we’ll just take it minute by minute. Alright?”

Uncertain glances were exchanged by the forty or so people in the groups. Then, a sea of nods.

Marie exhaled and fought back a cough as she did so. 

_ Looks like some things haven’t changed.  _ She had a feeling that she was still down a lung, though it would take a medical workup to see if it was true or not.

Marie let her head loll back. She stared at the clouds drifting by, savouring the sight. It had been ages since she had seen such a thing.

“Y’all should probably sit down or something,” she mused. “Have a feeling this is going to take a while.”

“How do you know?” one of them asked. 

“Just a hunch.”

-

Marie nibbled on a granola bar. The girl that had been in her arms was now sitting next to her, puzzling over the bottle of gatorade in her hands. The officer, Diego, she had learned his name to be, stood watch. He had returned a while ago with an armful of snacks and drinks and two more officers in tow. Now they were all waiting for the medical transports to show up.

“You don’t look like the rest of them,” Diego said quietly.

“I died after them,” Marie murmured. “Cancer, from working the Pile. Though, I could’ve been one of them.”

“Yeah?”

“When Tower Two came down, I got caught in the debris cloud,” she said. “Got buried, not bad, of course, but still. If my guys hadn’t pulled me when they did, I probably would’ve been them.” She gestured her head towards the group.

Before Diego could say anything, the first ambulance pulled up. Marie looked up as paramedics climbed out of the rig. 

A paramedic walked over the Marie and Diego, only to freeze as she got close. 

_ “Alexander?” _ the paramedic asked in disbelief. 

Marie waved. “Hey, Julie,” she greeted. “What’s up?”

“Uh, um, you are,” Julie stammered out. “Because you were dead.”

Marie grinned. “I know, right? I honestly have no idea how this happened,” she said, motioning to herself and the group.

“Uh huh.” Julie glanced back at her colleagues. “Alright, Hernandez, you take the left half, Meyers, take right. I’ve got Alexander.”

Marie sighed. “Worry about me last Julie, these people need your attention first,” she said and stood. A wave of nausea rolled through her at the motion. She swayed on her feet. 

Julie was by her side in an instant. “Uh huh.” She moved Marie so that she was sitting back on the bench. 

“I’m fine!” Marie grumbled. 

Julie rolled her eyes. “Good to know that some things don’t change,” she said. She pulled her stethoscope from around her neck. “You know the drill.”

“About that…” 

Julie paused. “What?”

“Had a pneumonectomy done on the left before I died,” Marie said casually. “Dunno if being brought back to life also brought my lung back.”

Julie gave her an incredulous look. “You don’t know?” she asked as she set about checking Marie’s lungs. Or lung. “Take a deep breath for me.”

Marie inhaled.

Julie shifted the bell. “Alright, exhale.”

Marie let out a breath and immediately started coughing.

“Well, unfortunately, being brought back to life did not restore your missing lung,” Julie said.

“Oh, darn.”

“Mhm.” Julie sat back on her heels. “What’s the last place you were treated at?”

“Mount Sinai.”

Julie nodded. “Then that’s where we’re taking you.” She signalled for a gurney.

“Oh, c’mon, a gurney?” Marie protested.

“You died of stage IV metastatic lung cancer and came back to life,” was Julie’s droll reply. “Not to mention, you’re also missing a lung. Forgive me for taking extra precautions.”

Marie pouted. “You used to be my favourite paramedic, you know that?”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Shut up and get on the gurney, Alexander.”

-

The ambulance rolled into the emergency bay at Mount Sinai. Julie was the first person out of the back.

“Marie Alexander, female, 37...ish, found at Freedom Tower,” she told the receiving nurse. 

The nurse paused. Alexander? Had she heard that right? 

“Medical history includes stage IV metastatic lung cancer that resulted in a pneumonectomy of the left lung.”

The nurse decided to look closely at the person being wheeled out of the back of the ambulance. Her eyes widened at who she saw.

Marie grinned at the nurse. “Miranda, hey! Look! Not dead!”

Miranda stared at Marie and promptly let out a shrill shriek. Her eyes proceeded to roll up into the back of her head as she fainted. 

Julie yelped as Miranda slumped against her. She glared at Marie. “Oh for fucks sake, really?” she demanded. 

Marie had the decency to give her a sheepish look. “Oops.”


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you remember the dream, where Jacob and Marie come back to us? Where Jacob goes for a run and Marie goes--"
> 
> "To grab coffee and forgets her keys," Lucy finished. "Yeah, I remember. Why?"
> 
> "Lucy, they found Marie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is gonna be the last chapter for a few weeks. I'm having top surgery in about 9ish hrs and recovering from that is going to be my top priority. Sorry!
> 
> Also, Lucy is going to be a Shi'a Muslim for this fic.
> 
> TW: for mention of past miscarriage

It was only six AM and Lucy had pounding headache headache. A week ago, Americans across the country had awoken to yet another side effect of Myriad: the appearance of the walking dead, or more specifically, the resurrected dead. The DEO had been alerted as soon as the first frantic reports had hit the airwaves. J’onn had been immediately recalled to D.C. by politicians demanding answers, leaving Lucy to dispatch agents across the country to try and figure out what the hell had happened. 

She was in the middle of filling out the paperwork that would send Demos to Pennsylvania when the phone rang.

Lucy sighed. If it was another suit from D.C., she was going to shoot her phone.

“Lane,” she greeted curtly.

_ "It's Victoria, do you have a minute?" _

Lucy blinked. "Sure, I guess? I'm at work but I can spare a few minutes." Not that that would be enough to get Lucy off the phone. She needed a break from all the paperwork. “What’s up?”

_ "Are you sitting down?" _

Lucy frowned. "I am, yeah. Why? What's going on?"

She heard Victoria take a deep breath on the other end. Then,  _ “Do you remember the dream, where Jacob and Marie come back to us? Where Jacob goes for a run and Marie goes--” _

“To grab coffee and forgets her keys,” Lucy finished. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

_ "Lucy, they found Marie." _

Lucy felt like the wind has just been knocked out of her. "What?"

_ "I got a call from Mount Sinai. She's alive." _

Lucy swallowed. "That's, that's not funny, Victoria," she said, trying and failing to keep her voice from cracking.

_ "Lucy, whatever's been happening across the country, it happened to Marie," _ Victoria said gently.  _ "She's one of them." _

"That's not funny," Lucy said again. She bit back a sob. "That's not funny, Marie is  _ dead _ ."

_ "She's alive, sweetheart. She's here in New York. They found her at Freedom Tower with a bunch of others and she's at Mount Sinai." _

Lucy still couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Marie's alive?"

_ "She's alive." _

Lucy placed a hand over her mouth. “I…” She took a deep breath. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said. “I just have to get a plane ticket and pack and--”

_ “Lucy!”  _ Victoria interrupted.  _ “Calm down, okay? We already bought you a plane ticket.” _

“You did?”

_ “Mhm,”  _ Victoria hummed her confirmation.  _ “I’ll text you the flight details in a few. It leaves in three hours your time. Gives you time to pack what you need.” _

“Thank you,” Lucy murmured. 

_ “It’s what family does, Luce,”  _ Victoria said earnestly.  _ “Call us when you land, alright?” _

“I will. Thank you again, Vi. For telling me.”

Lucy hung up before Victoria could say anything else. She collapsed back into her chair and pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. When she had seen that the dead had started to come back in New York, a part of her had hoped that Marie would be among their number. She had quickly pushed it back, though, because Marie was dead and she wasn’t coming back. 

Except, apparently, now she was. Marie was alive. She was  _ alive.  _

Lucy moved her hands, folding them in front of her face as she opened her eyes. She had to get going. She had a flight in five hours, a flight that was going to take her to New York to see Marie. 

“Vasquez!”

Vasquez poked their head through the doorway. “Yes, Director Lane?” 

Lucy got up. “You’re in charge until I get back.”

Vasquez immediately started to sputter. “What? Back? Back from where?” they demanded, entirely unprepared for what Lucy was throwing them into.

“New York.”

“Does Director J’onzz know?” they asked.

“He will.” Lucy grabbed her jacket and moved to leave. She paused and placed a hand on their shoulder. “You’ve got this. Just make sure that the paperwork for agent assignments is out by the end of the day and don’t blow up my base.”

“Right,” Vasquez deadpanned. They bit their lip. “Director Lane, Lucy?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever it is, good luck.”

Lucy nodded. “Thanks.”

-

Lucy’s movements were mechanical as she went about packing for her flight to New York. Drawers hissed open and thumped shut as she grabbed random items here and there, her mind such a whirl with thoughts that she barely paid any attention to the things she was adding to her duffle bag.

A pair of jeans. Her West Point sweatshirt. That one red jumper that Marie had loved, but Lucy had come to hate because of how much it reminded her of her dead wife. An old worn olive green t-shirt that had belonged to Marie and that Lucy wore on the bad days because it reminded her of being held by Marie’s arms. 

Lucy continued to place things into her duffle bag until the reality of the situation reasserted itself in her mind: Marie was alive. Her wife was alive. 

Lucy’s eyes flicked towards the closet. She folded the last set of boxers and stuffed them into one of her sneakers before making her way over. She opened the door to look over the various suits she had hanging. 

Two things caught her eye. The first was her blues. The second was a crisp black pantsuit that had been a gift from Victoria, who had claimed that Lucy needed more civilian professional wear.

With DADT long gone and same-sex marriage having been legal on a national level for years not, it meant that, if it really was Marie in New York, she would be entitled to the same benefits that a heterosexual spouse was. All Lucy needed to do was file the paperwork.

_ I’m going to have go to Fort Hamilton.  _

But before that, Lucy would have to go get a new marriage license, which meant going to court. 

_ I’ll stop by city hall tomorrow morning. I think Judge Tomlinson is still there. _

Lucy eyed her dress blues and the pantsuit and grabbed both. She went back to the bed and carefully laid the pantsuit out before going about removing her ribbons from her blues. Folding both suits and stuffing them into a duffle bag wasn’t ideal, but she could always steam out all of the resulting wrinkles later in the day.

“Fuck!” Lucy swore as the back of her ribbon rack caught her finger. She lifted it up and sighed when she saw that one of the frogs was missing. 

Lucy reached under the bed and grabbed the stool before heading back towards to the closet. She climbed it and patted the shelf in search for the box containing her spare frogs. One pat introduced her hand to the soft fabric of a prayer rug that hadn’t been used in years. The second pat saw her her hand connect with something hard. She briefly ran her fingers over the top of it before grabbing it and the prayer rug next to it and bringing both into view. 

It wasn’t the box that held her spare frogs; it was the box that held things that were far more precious. Lucy brushed a thumb across the JAG and Signal Corps insignia carved into the cherry wood lid. She couldn’t stop the small smile that rose as she did so. 

The box had been an anniversary present from Marie years ago, who had had it made for Lucy after she graduated law school. Over the years, it had come to hold important momentos for Lucy.

Lucy tucked the prayer rug under her arm before she went over to her bed, sat down, and opened the box. She looked the various items over. 

A turbah that had belonged to her mother. A pair of tickets from the first Yankees game she and Marie had attended together. A photo of her and Marie on their first date after 9/11, one of the rare moments of peace they had been able to enjoy in the months following the attack. The St. Christopher medal that Marie had sent her while Lucy was stationed in Germany. Marie’s beaten Casio watch, a birthday gift from Lucy that still told the time after all these years because she couldn’t bear to let the watch die. 

All of the items lay atop a scarf with the JAG symbol printed on it. Lucy couldn’t stop the lump that rose in her throat at the sight of it. Marie had been wearing it when she died. 

Lucy removed turbah and set it aside before taking out the watch and fastening it around her wrist. She went back to the box and gently tugged the scarf out. She turned the fabric around in her hands. She didn’t have much time to examine it before her phone went off, letting her know that she had to get moving.

Lucy sighed. She folded the scarf and tucked it into her coat. She quickly but neatly folded her suit and blues and stuffed them into her bag. The prayer rug found its way into her bag, though its addition came more as an afterthought on her part than anything else. 

The sharp sound of a zipper shutting hit the air seconds before Lucy tossed the bag over her shoulder. She took one last look around her apartment. The turbah still sitting on the comforter caught her attention. She reached down and quietly slipped it into her pocket. Then, she was gone.

-

“Ma’am, don’t forget to remove your ring,” a TSA officer spoke up, snapping Lucy from her thoughts as she worked to get her laptop into a bin.

“Huh?” Lucy glanced down at her wedding ring. “Oh, right.”

She pulled her ring off and gently placed it in smaller bucket that also held her phone, wallet, and turbah. She patted her pockets to check if there was anything else to remove, doing her best to ignore how awkward her hand now felt without her ring. Feeling nothing left in her pockets, she sent everything through and let out a breath. 

Lucy kept her eyes on the bin holding her ring as she stood in line and waited for the scanner to open up. Having to remove her ring every time she went through security was one of the things she hated most when she flew. 

Her hand felt so heavy as she raised her arms when she stepped into the scanner. Lucy rarely took her wedding ring off unless she absolutely had to. If it wasn’t on her finger, it was on a chain around her neck to keep it close. 

The scanner whirled once. 

“Alright, you can step out now.”

Lucy lowered her arms and stepped out. She sidestepped the TSA agent attempting to usher her through and quickly made her way over to retrieve her things. Phone and wallet were promptly slipped into her jeans pocket while the turbah found its way into her coat pocket. She carefully picked her wedding ring up and slowly slid it back on her finger.

Once the ring was back on her finger, Lucy let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. Even after all these years, not having her wedding ring on her person never failed to give her anxiety. 

Lucy glanced at Marie’s watch and sighed. She pulled her bag off the conveyor belt and hurried to her gate, mumbling a quick apology when her duffle checked an older woman in the back.

-

“Oh, do you need me to move over so that your husband can sit down too when he gets here?” 

Lucy glanced at the woman in the seat next to the one she was about to take. “Excuse me?” she asked.

The woman pointed to Lucy’s wedding ring. “Your husband,” she repeated. “You’re carrying such a large bag, I just assumed that it was for him.”

_ Seriously? _ Lucy fought the urge to facepalm and settled for stifling a sigh of annoyance instead. She gave the woman a thin smile.

“I’m actually flying to New York to visit my wife,” Lucy said, tone curt. 

“That’s wonderful!” The woman gushed. “How long have you two been married?”

“A year.” Lucy’s fingers came to rub her ring unconsciously. “Then she died.”

“Oh.” Whatever else the woman had prepared to say was cut off when Marie’s watch beeped

Lucy startled imperceptibly. She had forgotten that Marie had set her watch to go off whenever it was time for Lucy to pray. That way, she could remember when Lucy would need to step away.

_ You don’t have to do that, Mar,  _ she had told Marie shortly after giving her the watch.

Marie had shot a grin at her then-girlfriend, not yet wife.  _ I want to, your faith is a part of you and I want to respect that. _

With the air quickly turning uncomfortable between her and the woman, Lucy got up and grabbed her bag. She moved so that she was apart from the rest of the passengers and stared out the window. She had some time to kill before the boarding process began. She had a prayer rug in her bag, as well as a scarf to cover her hair, and her tubah sat in her pocket.

Lucy bit her lip. She hadn’t prayed in years. She looked over her shoulder. The gate was still filling up with people.

_ Screw it.  _ She had prayed in front of strangers by herself before. So what if she was going to be rather rusty? It’s not like anyone else would be able to tell.

Lucy quietly knelt down and unzipped her bag. She tugged the scarf out, ignoring the eyes she could feel burning into the back of her head as she lifted the scarf to cover her hair and worked on pinning it up. She reached into her small duffle bag and pulled the prayer rug that hadn’t been used in years, not since Marie had died. She unfurled it before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her turbah. The turbah had been her mother’s once and now it was hers. Like the prayer mat, it hadn’t seen use in ages.

Once everything was in order, she stood. She closed her eyes and mimed the motions normally made during wudu. In normal circumstances, she would have taken the time to complete wudu, but standing in the middle of an airport gate in National City meant it wasn’t going to happen. And, given that this prayer was a last minute thing on her part, she hadn’t prepared for tayammum either. The most that she could do was hope that her niyyah was acceptable enough.

Lucy raised her hands. "Allahu akbar," she whispered and let her hands fall to the side. "Bismillah iramah iraheem..."

She bowed as she finished al-Fatiah. "Subḥāna rabbī l-ʿaẓīm," she said quietly. She straightened. "Allahu akbar." She knelt and pressed her forehead to the turbah. Her lips moved silently as she transitioned to reciting the prayer from memory.

Lucy sat back and opened her eyes. She watched a plane drift on by before closing her eyes again.

“Allahu akbar.” Before she could prostrate herself a second time, the gate intercom cracked to life. 

_ “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! This is a pre-boarding announcement for United flight N17, nonstop services to New York City.  _ _ We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin as soon as pre-boarding is completed. Thank you!” _

Lucy sighed. So much for prayer. 

_ I’ll make up for it when I get to New York.  _ Or if news of Marie’s revival turned out to be some cruel joke, she would go to a bar, get drunk, and curse the universe around her. There would even been a good chance of her cursing herself for daring to get her hopes up.

Lucy pushed herself up, grunting as her knees protested at the motion. She unpinned the scarf, letting it fall down around her shoulders while she placed the turbah back into her pocket. She quickly rolled up her prayer rug and slipped it into her bag, leaning forward slightly as families lined up to board.

She grunted when a small human collided with her.

“Hayden! Watch where you’re going!” A father scolded his daughter. He glanced at Lucy. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy said, waving his apology away. She looked down at his daughter. “She’s a cute kid.”

“Thanks!” He grinned and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “She takes after her mum.”

Lucy faintly returned the smile and settled against the window as line moved forward. She watched Hayden chatter away with her father. She couldn’t stop the pang that hit her heart at the sight. She and Marie had almost had daughter like that. Marie had ended up miscarrying during the second trimester, though, and Lucy hadn’t been there when it happened.

Lucy shook her head before her mind could hook onto the memories. She couldn’t think about that, not now. 

_ “We’ll now start boarding Group 1. If your boarding pass says Group 1 on it, please begin lining up!”  _ The intercom squawked.

Lucy pulled her phone out to check if that meant her. She nodded when she saw it did. 

_ Thank you, Victoria.  _

Lucy pushed off the window and grabbed her bag, smoothly sliding into the line. With each step she took towards the front, her grip tightened further and further around its handles. By the time she reached the front of the line, her hand was throbbing from the webbing biting its way into her palm.

“Can I see your boarding pass, please?” the flight attendant asked pleasantly, completely unaware of the anxiety building inside of Lucy.

Lucy fumbled for her phone and handed it over. There was a ping before it was returned to her sweating hand.

“Have a great flight!” The flight attendant flashed a megawatt smile at Lucy.

“Right.”

Lucy walked into the jet bridge and let out a breath. Five more hours until she was in New York. Until she was, hopefully, with Marie.

-

New York was three hours ahead of National City. That meant that Lucy had plenty of energy to spare when the plane touched down at LaGuardia.

She walked through the terminal in a daze. The five hour flight had done nothing to soothe her nerves; if anything, the longer the flight dragged on, the more her anxiety increased. 

“Lucy!” 

Lucy blinked when she heard someone call out her name. She turned to see Victoria. She hurried over and found herself pulled into a tight hug. She closed her eyes as she returned it.

“It’s really good to see you,”  Victoria said once they had broken apart.

“It’s good to see you too, Tori,” Lucy said. She shifted the duffle bag to readjust her grip around the handles. “So, is it really her?” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “It’s Marie?”

Victoria nodded. “It’s her Lucy, I promise.”

Lucy let out a breath. “And her memories?”

“Intact.” Victoria smiled at Lucy. “She’s been asking for you, actually.”

Lucy swallowed.

Victoria gently placed a hand on Lucy shoulder. “This is real, Lucy,” she said. “I promise. This is real, Marie’s back. She’s back.”

Lucy bit her lip and glanced up at the ceiling as she fought back tears. “Right,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. “I know that.”

Victoria squeezed Lucy’s shoulder. “C’mon, we’ve got about three hours before visiting hours are up at Mount Sinai.”

“They haven’t extended the hours with the revivals?” Lucy asked, shifting her duffle so that it was over her shoulder as they made their way out of the terminal. 

“The Freedom Tower-Ground Zero group’s the largest so far, according to news reports,” Victoria said. “There aren’t enough personnel at Mount Sinai to keep up with all the families that want to visit.”

Lucy hadn’t even thought about that. She made a mental note to check in with Vasquez later tonight to see which agents were being sent out here and if a someone from DEO medical could accompany them.

A thought struck Lucy just as she tossed her bag into the backseat.

“Are they going to let me in to see Marie?” she asked.

Victoria gave her a look. “Of course they are,” she said in a tone that brook no argument. “We put you down as family. And if they try to stop you, let me handle it.”

“The last time I let you handle hospital staff refusing to let see my wife, you punched one nurse and completely verbally eviscerated the masculinity of another,” Lucy said dryly. “And the only reason you didn’t face charges is one, you’re a nurse yourself and two, I’m a lawyer.”

Victoria waved her off. “No one liked Wanda, she was a crotchety old bitch who refused to catch up with the times.” She started the car. “And Jacob was an arse.”

“Uh huh.” Lucy couldn’t really disagree with those statements. Wanda Adamsson and Jacob Taylor had both proven to be constant barriers to her whenever she tried to visit her wife when she was sick. The memory of Victoria launching a beautiful right hook at Nurse Wanda’s face was an amazing one, as was her completely tearing into Nurse Jacob.

Victoria backed out of the parking spot. There was a glint in her eye that made Lucy feel very nervous. Her hand shot to the grab handle near the ceiling of the car moments before Victoria peeled out of the garage.

Lucy’s shrill, panicked yelp hit the air seconds later.

-

“And we’re here!” Victoria announced cheerfully as she pulled into Mount Sinai.

Lucy glared at her. “God, I remember why I hate driving with you,” she grumbled.

Victoria rolled her eyes. “We made it in one piece, didn’t we?” she asked.

“This is true.” Lucy shoved the car door open with her shoulder. “Still a better driver than Lois…” she muttered under her breath.

She slammed the door shut behind her and stared up at the building before her. For all the good Mount Sinai Hospital did for the city of New York, it was nonetheless an imposing sight. She clenched her jaw to stave off the memories threatening to overwhelm her.

“You ready?” Victoria asked.

“As ready as I can be, I guess,” Lucy admitted. 

The two made their way inside. Both dodged the various groups of families, patients and doctors with practiced ease as they headed towards the front desk. 

_ “Hi, I’m Victoria Alexander, my sister’s a patient here and this is her wife, Lucy…” _

The noise of the lobby faded from Lucy’s attention as the smell of antiseptic hit her nose. She hated that smell. The sterile scent always burned at her nose and it never failed to bring back memories of some of her worst moments with Marie.

She noticed Victoria nod and follow a nurse towards a set of doors. Lucy followed, still lost in her thoughts.

_ What if Marie doesn’t remember me? _ But Victoria had said that Marie did.

_ What if she’s still sick?  _ Lucy wouldn’t be able to handle losing Marie again, especially not soon after getting her back.

_ What if she doesn’t love me anymore?  _ But according to Victoria, Marie had been asking for her. Why would you ask for someone if you didn’t love them?

_ What if what if what if-- _

“Lucy.”

Lucy grunted when she bumped into something. She blinked and glanced at Victoria. “Yeah?”

Victoria gestured to the door with a slight nod. “We’re here,” she said. “You can go in.”

“Right.” Lucy let out a short breath. She placed a hand on the doorknob. “Right.”

Lucy pushed the handle down and opened the door. She stepped inside and froze at who she saw sitting upright in the hospital bed. Marie’s warm gaze met hers. She stopped breathing when Marie’s face broke into a wide smile. 

“Hey stranger, long time no see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all liked the chap! If you've got any questions or comments, feel free drop em below or on Tumblr @sandstonesunspear. See y'all in a few weeks!


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey stranger, long time no see.”
> 
> Lucy remembered those words. They had become Marie’s catchphrase and were often the first thing that had left her lips whenever she met Lucy at LaGuardia. The phrase had always been accompanied by a warm, cheeky grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. School's started up, so that kinda takes priority right now. On the bright side, I'm mostly recovered from top surgery!

_ “Hey stranger, long time no see.” _

Lucy remembered those words. They had become Marie’s catchphrase and were often the first thing that had left her lips whenever she met Lucy at LaGuardia. The phrase had always been accompanied by a warm, cheeky grin.

Today was no different. 

Lucy felt her heart stutter to a stop at the sight of her wife’s smile. That smile had haunted her dreams and memories for years.

Victoria gave Lucy a sharp, short poke to the back to get her to move forward. Lucy took a few shaky steps towards Marie’s hospital bed. The last time she had approached a hospital bed that held Marie, her wife had been unconscious and running out of time. The next morning, she was dead.

Except, now, she wasn’t.

Lucy stopped just short of Marie’s side. As much as she wanted to take the final step to her wife, she found that her feet refused to move forward. She was too scared to. What if this was just a dream? What if she took that final step, only to wake up alone in her bed like she had so many nights before? What if what if what--

“Lucy.”

Lucy blinked. Marie’s hand was outstretched, inviting her to take it. Her wife was giving her a fond, exasperated look. 

Lucy swallowed. She worked to keep her hand steady as she took Marie’s hand in hers. It was warm to the touch.

“I’m right here, Lucy,” Marie said quietly. She ran her thumb across the back of Lucy’s hand. “I’m back.”

Lucy cracked. She wrapped an arm around Marie and pulled her close. She buried her face into the crook of Marie’s neck, taking in the warmth. Lucy breathed in. The smell of antiseptic burned at her nose, but it couldn’t cover up Marie’s scent. It was too well ingrained in Lucy’s memory to stay hidden. Another breath brought Marie’s scent to the forefront: clove, coffee, a hint of soot that Marie had always joked around as being the result of her work during 9/11 and thus never seemed to fade.

Lucy pulled back slightly when she felt Marie run a hand through her hair. The two stared at each other for several moments.

Marie broke the silence. “Hi,” she said. She looked Lucy over and tilted her head. “You’re as beautiful as I remember you being.”

Lucy fought the urge to duck her head as her cheeks heated up. “You are too,” she said. Her wife hadn’t aged a day since her death. There were no signs of decay to be seen. It was as if she had simply been frozen in time. 

“Flatterer,” Marie teased.

“For you?” Lucy leaned forward. “Always, Mar.” She pressed her lips to Marie’s and let her eyes slip shut as her wife kissed her back. She heard shuffling followed by a sharp click of the door to the room closing as Victoria left to give them some privacy.

Both of them broke apart at the noise. Lucy and Marie exchanged looks before breaking out into laughter. Marie’s laughter was such a wonderful sound to Lucy’s ears. Eventually, though, the laughter died down.

Marie coughed harshly, making Lucy jerk in alarm. “I’m fine, Luce,” she quickly reassured Lucy. She gave her wife a lopsided grin. “It comes with being down a lung, remember?”

Lucy bit her lip. “Yeah,” she said. “So...you’re back, minus the lung.”

Marie chuckled. “I am,” she confirmed.

“Does that mean that…” Lucy couldn’t bring herself to finish the question. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“That the cancer came back with me?” Marie finished for her. 

Lucy nodded.

Marie intertwined her fingers with Lucy’s. “They have to run a few more tests,” she said.

Lucy knew her wife well enough by now to know when to read in between the lines. “But…?”

“But they’re pretty sure I’m cancer free now.”

Lucy let out a breath she hadn’t been aware that she was holding. Before she could say anything, a knock at the door caught her attention. 

She and Marie both glanced at it to see a doctor come through. Lucy recognised her immediately. 

“Maura?” Lucy only barely managed to contain her surprise. Maura O’Malley had been Marie’s oncologist before she died.  

Maura grinned at Lucy. “Lane, long time no see,” she said. She glanced at Marie. “Doubly so for your wife.”

“I mean, death kinda does that,” Marie said and yelped when Lucy whapped her arm.

“Not funny,” Lucy said. 

Marie pouted. 

Maura rolled her eyes at the both of them. Their interactions had been the highlight of her being the supervision oncologist in charge of Marie’s treatment the first time she’d been sick.

She cleared her throat, interrupting the couplish bickering that was bound to erupt between the two women. She sat on a stool and pulled up Marie’s chart.

“So, from everything I remember about the two of you, you both hate bullshit. I’m assuming that’s still correct?”

Lucy and Marie nodded.

“Great!” Maura said. “Now, good news or bad news first?”

Lucy felt her stomach clench at the words, “bad news.” Bad news meant that Marie was wrong, meant that she had come back with cancer, meant that she was going to die again. Before her thoughts could spiral too far into panic, a tight squeeze from Marie’s hand pulled her back from the brink.

She looked to Marie.

Marie pressed a kiss to Lucy’s cheek. “Breathe baby,” she murmured against Lucy’s skin.

Lucy took a breath and closed her eyes. She opened them to meet Maura’s expectant gaze. Her hand clenched down on Marie’s unconsciously.

“We’ll take the bad news first,” she said. Rip the bandaid off and get it over with. The sooner she knew what was wrong, the sooner she could process it and shove the fear down.

“Bad news, we have no idea why you came back from the dead,” Maura informed them bluntly.

Lucy’s hand tightened its grip around Marie’s, drawing a small yelp from her.

“And the good news?” Lucy asked. Her hand loosened its hold just barely as Marie took to rubbing her thumb against the back of Lucy’s hand to try and get it to relax.

“Good news is that the scans came back clean.”

Lucy stopped breathing. “What?”

Maura smiled at the both of them. “The scans are clean,” she repeated. She shut the chart. “Your wife looks to be in remission, Major.”

Lucy licked her lips. Her mouth felt so dry. She had no idea what to say.

“Soo…” Marie drawled out. “When can I get out of here?” She shot a cheeky grin at Lucy. “I want to go home with my wife.”

Maura laughed. “I bet you do,” she said. She tilted her head. “We’re going to keep you at least another 24 hours for observation, but you should be able to go home tomorrow evening.”

Marie’s head thumped against the pillow. “Oh thank god,” she sighed.

Maura feigned a hurt expression. “What, you don’t like us here at Mount Sinai?” 

Marie chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, Maura, you all are great, but the food sucks.”

Maura hummed her agreement. “That’s fair.” She got up. “I’m going to touch base with Hendricks about your case and then see what we can do about dinner for you.”

“I think Tori’s bringing me take out from that pizza place on Madison,” Marie mused.

Maura sighed. “Of course she is.” Victoria Alexander was a great nurse, but over the years she appeared to have inherited her Marie’s devil-may-care attitude, especially once Marie had fallen ill.

Maura moved to leave, only to pause by the door. “Alexander?” she spoke up. “Just know that as good as it is to see you again, I really never want to see you on my floor again.”

Marie grinned. “That’s fair.”

Once Maura was gone, Marie ran a hand through Lucy’s hair. “You still with me, Major?” she asked, tone half-teasing, half-concerned.

Lucy blinked. “Yeah,” she sighed. 

“Uh huh.” Marie leaned back and tugged Lucy along with her as she did so that the two of them were laying together. “C’mere.”

Lucy settled up against her wife. She pressed her ear firmly against Marie’s chest and closed her eyes, savouring the sound of the steady thrum of her heart. As much as she missed the sound, she had missed what it meant even more: it meant that her wife was alive.

“I can hear the wheels turning in your head, Lucy Alexander-Lane.” Lucy glanced up at Marie to see an amused smirk on her lips. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“There’s nothing on my mind, Mar.” That was a lie. Everything was on her mind: the fallout from Myriad, Marie’s return from the dead, whether or not this was real or just some cruel dream, the paperwork nightmare she was going to be faced with, bringing Marie to National City. All of it was pressing down on Lucy’s shoulders and mind. 

Marie saw right through her wife’s attempt to deflect. “Lucy.”

Lucy gave her a sardonic smile. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” she asked.

“You remember who I am, right?” Marie’s question was accompanied by a raised eyebrow aimed at Lucy. “I’m Marie Alexander-Lane, your wife. I was a firefighter and paramedic for a number of years and made a habit of not letting things go so I could run into buildings and save people before lung cancer took me down. That ring a bell?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. She reached up and flicked Marie’s shoulder. “Yes, I remember all of that you ass.”

“Then there’s your answer,” was Marie’s cheeky response.

Lucy sighed. She snuggled closer to Marie. The two lay in silence for a while. Then, “This is real, right?” 

It was soft. If Marie hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed the question completely.

“What’s real?” she asked, slightly confused.

“This. You, us,” Lucy said quietly. She looked up to Marie. “This is real. You’re really here.”

Marie absently ran her fingers through Lucy’s hair. “This is real,” she whispered. “I dunno how it happened, but this is real and I’m right here.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

Marie scoffed playfully. “I’m entirely offended that you’d even ask that, Luce.”

Lucy smiled at the response. It was just like Marie to say that. Before she could saw anything, a yawn broke through.

It didn’t escape Marie’s notice. She brushed a thumb under Lucy’s eyes, noticing the dark shadows under her eyes for the first time.

“You should get some sleep,” Marie said. 

Fear seized Lucy’s chest. The logical part of her knew that Marie’s suggestion was a good one. After all, she had been burning the midnight oil on both ends for the past week trying to clean up Myriad’s aftermath. But as much as she needed sleep, it was the last thing she wanted to do, especially while in Marie’s arms.

“I don’t need to sleep Mar,” she tried. The yawn that followed quickly undermined her statement.

“Of course you don’t, Major ‘I’ve very obviously been burning the candle at both ends,’” Marie said dryly. 

Lucy pouted. 

Marie chuckled. “Not gonna work this time, Luce.” And, as cute as her wife’s pouts were, they rarely ever worked once Marie had determined her wife needed sleep. 

“I…” Lucy bit her lip. “I’m afraid, Mar.” The last time she had fallen asleep in Marie’s arms, she had awoken the next morning to find her wife dead. 

Marie seemed to pick up on the cause of Lucy’s hesitation. She gave her wife a small, reassuring squeeze. “I’m right here Lucy,” she said. “And I’m going to be here when you wake up.”

But being here and being alive were two very different things and the both of them knew it.

“You were here when I woke up last time.”  _ But you weren’t alive. _

“This time’s different, Lucy.” Marie pressed a kiss to the crown of Lucy’s head. “I’m alive, and I’m going to stay that way, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” It was only through sheer luck and a healthy amount of willpower that Lucy was able to keep her voice from breaking.

“I just came back from the dead,” Marie pointed out. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”  _ Not again.  _ Marie would tear down the heavens to get back to her wife if some higher power dared to take her away from Lucy again.

Lucy bit her lip even tighter. Then, “Alright.” She nodded against Marie’s chest. “I guess a few hours won’t hurt. Just…please wake me up if something happens. If you feel like you’re about to go, just…wake me up.” 

_ I want to say goodbye. I want to tell you I love you. I want to say everything I wasn’t able to say the last time you died. _

“You got it, Major.” Marie gave her wife a slightly exasperated smile. “Now, will you get some sleep?”

Lucy sighed. “Oh, fine,” she grumbled. A beat. “Marie?”

“Yeah, Luce?” Marie lifted her head a bit to look down at her wife. 

“I love you.”  _ And I missed you so much.  _

Marie kissed Lucy’s forehead. “I love you too.”

An easy silence settled around them. Lucy listened to Marie’s heartbeat as Marie continued to run her fingers through Lucy’s hair to try and lull her to sleep. Eventually, between Marie’s ministrations and the exhaustion weighing on her body, Lucy’s eyes finally slipped shut. 

For the first time in years, Lucy slept peacefully. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to stop by on tumblr @sandstoneunspear to say hi or toss some ideas my way. If you're feeling generous and/or like what you've read, consider buying me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/sandspears
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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